


Truth

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Parentage Reveal, R Plus L Equals J, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-11 19:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18430994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: He could detect the panic in her voice now, anger gone in her need for the truth. He swallowed, glanced at the door for a second as though expecting someone to burst through at any moment."I will tell you it all, I swear," he promised, taking a tentative step towards her. She watched him warily but her arms dropped to her sides, a sign that she was open to discussion and with a curt nod, she agreed to his promises."I want to believe the best of you Jon," she said softly. "I cannot bear for you to hurt me too."





	Truth

**Author's Note:**

> I started this a while ago but not had a lot of time to write recently. Anyway, I didn't want to change the dialogue etc from what actually happened, but hopefully, it still works.

His cloak had been like a protection in the south, despite the stifling heat. It had reminded him of why he had to succeed, what he had to fight for, of his place at Winterfell with his family. But standing here now, in Sansa's chambers, he suddenly felt as though he should remove it, that he no longer had the right to wear the token of her affections in such a way.

"You should have warned me," Sansa murmured, her back still to him as she observed the courtyard below. Jon knew there was nothing and nobody there, everybody was inside awaiting to hear his explanation, waiting for Daenerys to tell them why she was worthy of being their new Queen.

Jon remained silent but for the sigh that he couldn't hold back. It brought Sansa's attentions back to him and she whirled around to face him, eyes bright and dangerous, more than any dragon fire he suspected Daenerys to conjure.

"I did not suffer Ramsay and beg for Littlefinger's help for you to give our home away for the first pretty face to turn your head!" she hissed.

Jon wished she had just hit him, for it would have hurt far less. To think that she would believe he had such little care for her feelings, that he had undermined all her suffering, that he didn't appreciate how she had pushed him into action and fought for their home when he was drowning beneath the prospect of defeat, it broke his heart. He would tell her the truth once they were alone, the truth that, although Daenerys was attractive. he wasn't in love with her and he likely never would be. He would leave out the part about how he already loved someone else.

"It isn't that simple," he muttered, already feeling his temple throbbing. He raised a gloved thumb to the point, pressed down in the hopes of forcing it away. "I told you before, we need to trust each other."

"I hadn't heard anything from you," she replied. "And the next thing, you're here with her, declaring her Queen." Her shoulders shook with the hard inhale she took. “And warming her bed! The Lords are so angry Jon, how could you?”

He could detect the panic in her voice now, anger gone in her need for the truth. He swallowed, glanced at the door for a second as though expecting someone to burst through at any moment.

"I will tell you it all, I swear," he promised, taking a tentative step towards her. She watched him warily but her arms dropped to her sides, a sign that she was open to discussion and with a curt nod, she agreed to his promises.

"I want to believe the best of you Jon," she said softly. "I cannot bear for you to hurt me too."

He longed to say that he would never but he knew he had already broken that promise, that even with the truth out there, she would be hurt. Hurt on his behalf of how he had been a prisoner, how he had had to trap himself into a relationship to guarantee the alliance of a willful Daenerys.

“Just tell me one thing,” Sansa murmured, her eyes closed as though her next words were painful to her. “Did you do it because you love her?”

“Sansa,” he sighed, resisting the urge to pinch his nose. Frustration wouldn’t get them anywhere, he knew. “I…”

“Jon.” He turned to see Sam at the door, a nervous smile on his lips as his eyes darted between them. “Have you got a moment?”

Sansa’s sharp gaze fell upon him, he felt as though she had cut him truly. He wasn’t proud of himself as he took the cowards way out and followed Sam silently out of the room.

***

The first knock was so soft, she thought she had imagined it. The second one was undeniable, a steady, firm thump, thump, thump. Frowning, she cast the door an irritated look and wondered where Brienne was that she was not shooing her late visitor away.

Perhaps it was the dragon queen, come to stake more claim on what Sansa held dear. First Jon, then Winterfell. What else could she take from her now?

But when she answered the door, it was to Jon’s tear-stricken face. Her lips had barely parted with her unspoken question when he surged forward and pulled her hard against him. "Please don't send me away!"

She shook her head, both in answer to his question and in her bewilderment. Her neck was already growing wet with his tears, his body shaking with the effort to breathe through it. Sansa extended an arm to push the door shut before she let her hand move to his hair, stroking the curls gently.

"What has happened?" she asked softly, unable to stop the swallow as dread filled her. Had he and Daenerys had a lovers quarrel and he had come to relieve his sorrow upon his dutiful sister? The thought made her inhale sharply, bile rising fast in her throat.

"I'm not his son," Jon mumbled, shaking his head. And then he said it again, louder, clearer and full of righteous anger. "I am  _not_ his son!"

Sansa moved her head back to give him a perplexed look, baffled at the angry growl. "Jon, what are you talking about?"

"Sam told me the truth. About...about father...your father... and my mother..." His words were muffled against her neck but she could hear them as clear as if he had shouted them. "My mother was Aunt Lyanna and my father...my real father...was Rhaegar."

"No," Sansa whispered, shaking her head in denial and clutching him closer instinctively. "He's not your real father. Ned Stark was your father."

"I'm not Rhaegar's son," he agreed, moving his head away from her shoulder to meet her eyes. "But don't call me Ned Stark's son either."

"You're still a Stark to me," she said firmly, pulling him tighter against her.

"I don't love her," he blurted, stepping out of her embrace. His hands settled on her shoulders, his eyes intense on her face. Sansa felt herself swallow at the look in his eyes, the heat shooting through her, making her toes curl in against the cool stone beneath her. "I don't love Daenerys."

She nodded and a relieved sigh escaped her before she could stop it. She heard Jon's harsh exhale and forced her eyes up to his face again. His eyes flickered down to her parted lips and Sansa could feel the heat spread through her cheeks, want pounding through her veins. She leaned forward, her eyes closing as her lips touched Jon's. 

He stiffened against her, her shoulders ached beneath his hands as he tightened them against her. Shame coloured her cheeks and she wrenched her mouth away, turning her head away as she felt the tears behind her eyes. 

"Sansa." Her name on his lips does nothing to cool the terrible, cursed, desire that coursed through her. The heat behind it is nothing but a mockery in this moment and it gave her courage to look to him again with steel in her eyes.

"Don't," she hissed, attempting to step away from him, only for his hands to drop to her waist.

"I can't," he said, his words harsh and desperate, enough to make her pause and meet his eyes. His soft gaze swept over her face, his throat bobbing slowly and it made anger surge through her once more. Sensing her sudden change again, he pulled her closer again and pressed his lips to her temple as he mumbled into her hair. "Not until after the war. I won't risk losing you."

Realisation dawned on her and she let him bury his hand in her hair and she let herself lay her head on his shoulder.

She had been wrong before, when she had told him in that tent all that time ago, that nobody could protect her because Jon was proving that he would do whatever it took to protect her. 

And she planned to protect him in return.


End file.
